


Said and Unsaid

by tfm



Series: Post-Ep Fics [8]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Episode Tag, F/F, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26656225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: "I don't think it's him."Or, post episode 111, the things that are said, and the things that are not said.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Series: Post-Ep Fics [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1870387
Comments: 5
Kudos: 179





	Said and Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> Hey look, two episode fics.

Said and Unsaid

In spite of the cold, biting rain, Beau could feel her hand getting clammy with sweat. In all the time since Beau had first taken hold of Yasha's, the other woman's grip had not faded. Not while Veth dug, not while everyone else went to help, not while Jester scried.

Beau and Yasha stood a little ways back, watching...waiting.

It wasn't until Jester told them what she had seen, told them with tears streaming down her face, that Yasha's grip changed, but it didn't let go. On the contrary, she squeezed Beau's hand impossibly tight, like she had forgotten that it was a person that she was holding onto, rather than a stress ball that had wronged her.

For a few terrible seconds, Beau was sure that Yasha was going to run away again, like she had so many times before. But that tight grip did not shift, and Beau realized that that had been her own insecurities talking.

'What do we do?' Beau asked. She felt strangely lost, more adrift than she had in a long time. All of the research she'd done, all of the theories that she had crafted, were nothing in the face of this. 'Do you think it's actually him?'

Fjord, weirdly, took charge.

'We have two options. Either it's Molly, and for some reason he's doing something that means he c—won't come back to us, or it's not Molly, and he doesn't give a shit about us either way.' Beau hated that she kind of preferred the latter option to the former. That she preferred the thought that it wasn't Molly, and whoever it was didn't even think of coming back, as opposed to it being Molly, and he had wilfully decided not to return.

'It's not him,' Beau murmured, as much to herself as to Yasha. 'It can't be him.'

Molly was dead. Molly was dead, and he wasn't coming back. Beau had come to terms with that a long time ago. Whoever was out there in the cold, biting snow with Cree, it wasn't him.

'How do you know it isn't him?' Jester cried out. Yasha's grip grew tighter for a brief second, but she still hadn't said a word.

'Because he would have come to us!' Beau snapped, and hated herself for the look on Jester's face. 'He would have come back to us,' she said again, in a softer voice, still trying to convince herself more than anyone else.

Finally, Yasha spoke. Her voice was as strained as Beau had ever heard it, and she sounded like she was trying to stop herself from crying. 'He would not have left his coat.' Beau wasn't sure what it meant that they were all more willing to believe that he would leave them behind than leave his coat behind.

'Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere a little less wet.' Caleb gestured to the storm that was lashing outside the dome.

'Can you cast that tower spell again?' Veth asked, her tiny halfling body shivering. Beau pulled her new, fur-lined vest in around herself, half-wishing that she had commissioned cold-weather gear along with the rest of them.

'Nein.' Caleb shook his head. 'That was the same...I used that power to get us here,' he said. 'But, I can get us back to Zadash, or to Rexxentrum, or to Nicodranas.'

'My family is still in Zadash,' Veth said. Beau wasn't sure, but it almost sounded as though Veth's mind was somewhere else entirely, that she was only responding to the mention of Zadash.

'Then we will go to Zadash.'

'I'll message ahead,' Jester said, quietly, with none of her usual zest. 'I don't want Beau to get into trouble.'

Beau wanted to tell her not to bother, that she was always in trouble anyway, but she found she didn't have the strength to do even that. It was like all the energy had been zapped from her body, every single theory that she'd had about what the fuck was going on was somehow meaningless in the face of a dark, horrible truth that none of them had expected.

Why _shouldn't_ they have expected it, really? Cree had known that Molly was dead, and they had known that Cree was a cleric... _had_ they known? Beau's head was so jumbled up right now that she couldn't even remember that.

It wasn't until they stepped through the circle to Zadash that Beau realized Yasha had never let go of her hand.

They met up with Yeza and Luc at the Lodge of the Eclipse, managing to catch the tail end of a play about a dragon. Beau wasn't entirely sure how they ended up sitting there watching it, instead of going upstairs to their newly acquired lodgings, and talking about the very big, very tiefling shaped owlbear in the room. Maybe they all needed time to process what had happened, and what they had found out.

If nothing else, the fact that Cree and Molly (was it really Molly? Should she really call him Molly if they didn't think it was Molly?) were moving north was interesting. Were they going to Eiselcross, too? Was there some credence to Beau's (admittedly pretty fucking far off the wall) theory that Aeor and the Eye of Nine vision were connected?

The thought gave her less pleasure than it would have if she'd discovered it yesterday, if she'd discovered it without finding out that Molly's grave was empty.

'I think I might go upstairs,' Yasha said, suddenly. Her voice sounded very far away. She stood, knocking over several half-empty tankards on their table. There was a beat of silence where she seemed to hesitate, before leaving. It was weird. Once upon a time, she would have just left without saying anything. Why—

'Beau,' Jester hissed, and Beau started.

'What?' Several other patrons shot irate “ssshing” noises in their direction, apparently very engaged in whether or not a dragon made out of shitty fabric was going to destroy a halfling town.

Jester nodded towards Yasha, and the gesture was clear. _Follow her._

Beau was pretty sure this wasn't the time to have the “making herself available” situation, but she did want to make sure that Yasha was okay, so she nodded, and darted after Yasha.

Yasha was surprisingly quick, even by Beau's standards. By the time that Beau had made the decision to follow, Yasha was already most of the way upstairs. Huffing a little, Beau caught up with her.

'Hey,' she said. Yasha stopped in her tracks. Beau could have sworn that she saw a very small smile.

'Hey.'

'Is it, uh...is it okay if I join you?' Beau asked. That small smile widened, but Beau had enough experience with sadness to know that it wasn't entirely a good smile.

'Of course,' Yasha said.

They had booked two rooms; Veth would be staying with her husband and son, which left Fjord, Caduceus and Caleb in one room, and Beau, Yasha and Jester in the other. Beau had seen Jester making silent eyebrow movements, trying to ask Beau if she wanted to be alone with Yasha, but Beau didn't really think that this was the time for that.

It was a nice enough room. Nicer than anything than anything that they'd had at the Evening Nip or the Leaky Tap, but not nearly as nice as the Pillow Trove or the Lavish Chateau. Too late, Beau had remembered that she technically had a nice, big room at the Cobalt Soul that they could have used, but this would do for now.

Yasha stretched out on her bedroll. There were only two beds, and the barbarian had almost immediately declared that she would sleep on the floor. Beau got the idea that she didn't care too much for beds in general.

Beau mimicked her. Despite the most taxing thing she'd done that day being a twenty-minute conspiracy theory rant, she was surprisingly tired. Maybe it was that emotional kind of exhaustion. But if it was exhausting for her, then it must have been hellish for Yasha.

Yasha, who had been Molly's best friend, and him hers. Yasha, who had been locked up in a cell being tortured as he died, who fled in anger and grief at the news of his death.

'I don't think it's him,' Beau said. 'He might have left the rest of us, but he never would have left you.' Yasha didn't answer straight away, and when she did, she only seemed to be responding to part of what Beau had said.

'I don't think it is him either.'

Beau took a breath. 'I, uh...I'm sorry you had to go through that. I mean, I didn't really want to go there either, but I wasn't even thinking about the possibility of...' _Of him not being there._ She couldn't quite manage to say the words aloud.

'Neither did I,' Yasha admitted. Another long pause. 'But...if it is choice between knowing now, and finding out later on, when we see him for the first time, then...maybe it is better that we know now.' She didn't sound convinced, and Beau wasn't entirely convinced either. 'Thank-you for...Just....thank-you.' Beau wasn't entirely sure what she was being thanked for. Maybe the hand-holding, or the coming up to check on Yasha....but those were all things that anyone would have done. They weren't special, or anything.

'Whatever happens,' Beau said, and she was thinking about Lucien, about the things that Cree had said he had done, and the kind of person that he was. 'Just know that I've got your back, yeah?'

Yasha didn't answer in words. She got up from her bedroll, and came over to the bed. Beau shifted to the side, unsure if this was what Yasha had intended, but also maybe kind of hoped...

Yasha took her hand, and climbed into the bed beside her. It wasn't a big bed, but they were so close together that it hardly mattered.

Yasha intertwined her finger's with Beau's, and squeezed them tightly. 'I've got your back too,' she said.


End file.
